


Better With Age

by transpapyrus



Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Angst, Blame musical theatre for this one, Character Death, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Heart Attacks, Hurt/very little comfort, I'm Sorry, M/M, Post-TPL, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25097047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transpapyrus/pseuds/transpapyrus
Summary: Rimmer reflects on the last three million and forty years.
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Comments: 39
Kudos: 43





	Better With Age

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my nightmare. I have thought about nothing but this fic for days. It's probably got a million mistakes in it because I typed the last word and hit post like it was on fire.
> 
> I'll preface this by saying two things:
> 
> 1) This fic is one giant trigger warning for character death, death mentions, heart attacks, declining health etc etc etc. Please take care of yourself and read at your own risk.  
> 2) I'm sure none of this is medically accurate... but this is Red Dwarf we're talking about.
> 
> But with all that aside.... please "enjoy" this fic, thank you for being here, I love you, smoke me a kipper, I'll be back for breakfast.

If you asked David Lister or Arnold Rimmer how long they had been together, they would just laugh, and then probably start arguing about it. 

The thing about their relationship was that no one really knew when it began. The two of them couldn’t even agree. In many ways, they’d _always_ been together. And in many others, they were hardly together at all. All they really knew, is that theirs was a story that spanned three million years. Well. Three million and forty, give or take a few centuries.

And like all good stories, it had to come to an end eventually.

It started, as most things did, with vindaloo.

Vindaloo, a trip to the medibay, and (“Engage lie mode”) a clean bill of health from Kryten (“Lie mode cancelled”). Lister went on his merry way, had a lager to wash down the curry sauce that lingered on the roof of his mouth, and ignored the chest pains that he dismissed as heartburn. He found Rimmer already asleep when he returned to the bunkroom, stumbling in. Funny, he really didn’t think he was that drunk. He used to be able to hold his liquor a lot better than that. Ah well. Old age, he supposed. 

“Move over,” Lister said, prodding Rimmer in the side with his knee as he climbed into the small bed beside him. It would’ve been easy and far more practical for them to move into officer’s quarters once they were regularly sharing a bed — but neither had the heart to leave their old room. So they made do, squished together on Rimmer’s small bunk, and most nights were incredibly uncomfortable, but Lister’s back was long past being completely smegged up, so he eventually just became numb to the pain. Ten years later, he really couldn’t imagine any sleeping arrangement being better than this.

Rimmer didn’t wake up fully, but he did grumble something and roll over onto his side, making room for Lister to slip down beside him. They fit like a glove, as Lister snuggled down against Rimmer’s back with one arm snaking around the hologram’s thin waist. All the tension seemed to leave Rimmer’s body then, as if he could only relax with Lister holding him. Lister just smiled, and let himself drift off to sleep.

Rimmer couldn’t feel heat, but he _could_ feel sweat. And Lister was _dripping_. The sensation was enough to wake him, and sitting up slightly, not fully awake, Rimmer dislodged Lister’s arms from him. But a clammy hand gripped his upper arm, and Rimmer could faintly hear strained gasps for breath. That wasn’t right. “Lights,” he said. He was momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness, but when his eyes adjusted, he saw Lister shuddering, his eyes open but not seeing. And then he just stopped. 

Rimmer leaned in. 

Nothing.

He put his head to Lister’s chest.

Nothing. 

_Smeg._

“Lister? Oh my god. _Lister!_ Kryten?? Holly!”

“What’s happenin’ Arnold?”

“Holly, get Kryten, tell him I need him here now.”

And that’s how, across an excruciatingly long twenty minutes, Kryten and Rimmer got Lister from the bunkroom back to the medibay. Kryten laid him out on the table, and Rimmer couldn’t help but think he looked quite dead, despite the heart monitor saying otherwise. He couldn’t stand still, pacing the room and barking orders at a very stressed out looking Kryten, and hovering over Lister’s side until eventually, he had to be removed from the room. Rimmer tried everything to pass the time until he was allowed in to see him, but nothing proved to be a satisfactory distraction. He was listless, pacing outside the door, jogging up and down the corridors, riding the express officers’ lifts from top to bottom, even attempting to sit down and make a timetable. But none of it helped. He was sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, feigning sleep, when Kryten finally emerged, the medibay doors sliding quiet shut behind him.

“Mr. Rimmer, sir?”

Immediately, Rimmer’s eyes shot open and he was on his feet. “Well? What’s going on? Is he alright? What happened?”

Kryten took a step back; there was a fiery rage in Rimmer’s eyes that was not unfamiliar to the mechanoid. But it was different this time, because rather than just the usual impatience and irritation that went along with medical issues (which Rimmer had often deemed a waste of time and a nuisance), there was _concern_ , a worry that ran much deeper than any frustrations he ever used as a mask. 

“Mr. Lister is stable,” Kryten said, and relief swept through Rimmer like a tidal wave, nearly knocking him off his feet as his legs threatened to give out from under him.

“Very good,” he said stiffly, once he regained his composure. “I’d like to go see him.” Kryten looked like he wanted to say more, but Rimmer was already shouldering past him into the medibay. 

Lister was lying down, propped up slightly on a few pillows, and his eyes were closed, but they fluttered open as he heard Rimmer enter. “Hey,” he said, voice weaker than Rimmer could bear to hear it. 

“Lister what did you _do?”_ Rimmer chided, coming over to stand at Lister’s bedside. His voice was accusatory, but it lacked its usual malice. There was that concern seeping in again. Damn his hologramatic heart, causing him to go soft after all these years.

Lister didn’t answer him at first, only laughing slightly which turned into a hacking cough, cutting him off. So instead he smiled, which was more of a pained grimace. “C’mere,” he said, shifting over in the small bed to make room for Rimmer beside him. No more urging necessary, Rimmer hopped up, barely noticing the discomfort of the medibay mattress. He sat there, very still, as if he was afraid to touch the man beside him. Lister watched him with a bemused expression for a few moments, before extending his arm to the other. Immediately, Rimmer slipped under it, allowing Lister to hold him close. His head pressed against Lister’s shoulder, he could just barely hear his mumbled, “Mild heart attack. I’m fine. Promise.” And Rimmer chose to believe that. 

“You gave us a real fright,” Rimmer said after a minute. “Did Kryten say what caused it?”

“I dunno. Bad diet. Bad physical health. Stress.” His tone was joking, but only a little. 

“Stress?” Rimmer scoffed. “What do you have to be stressed about?”

“What, keeping Red Dwarf functioning isn’t a high-stress job, in your opinion?”

“Of course it is. I just don’t think you’re the one keeping us from falling apart.”

“Of course you don’t.” Lister shook his head and tightened his grip around Rimmer, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Rimmer’s face flushed. Even now, little acts of affection still flustered him. “You know,” Lister mused, voice thoughtful. “It could just be that I’m getting old.”

Rimmer drew back to fix Lister with a skeptical stare. “You’re younger than me!”

“Still, three million and sixty-five isn’t exactly young.”

“Lister, what are you getting at? I’m older than you and I’m in perfect health—”

“Rimmer, you’re _already_ dead.”

That shut the hologram up quickly, but his expression was already morphing into one of realization and horror. “Wait, you aren’t — you’re not saying that you think… that Kryten thinks…”

Lister let out a huff of air. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I asked Kryten not to say anything until he was certain. He said he had to run more tests. So I’m here, hooked up to this thing for now.”

Rimmer considered this. “...Do you really think you’re going to be fine?” he asked quietly. His voice was small, frightened, and he looked the part — a vulnerability reserved only for Lister. 

Lister reached over and squeezed Rimmer’s hand. “I gotta keep thinking that, don’t I?”

The answer wasn’t very reassuring. 

Lister started to get tired after a while, and Kryten came in to check on him, so despite how much he didn’t want to leave his side, Rimmer reluctantly got up and went to go busy himself once again. This time, he gathered up a number of Lister’s favorite possessions — photographs, his guitar, etc — to bring back to him in the medibay. He wasted time by tidying every inch of the bunkroom now that Lister wouldn’t be in there to mess it up, and then went down to the kitchens to ensure that Kryten hadn’t caved and made curry at Lister’s insistence. 

Before the pair returned, Kryten pulled Rimmer aside. “Sir, I think you should know that even if Mr. Lister recovers from this incident, this stability is only temporary. His health is only going to decline.”

Rimmer stared at him. “If? What do you mean, _if_ he recovers? What are you implying, Kryten?”

The mechanoid looked uncomfortable, shifting the tray of food from one hand to the other. “At his age, heart conditions are more severe, and have a much lower survival rate than in a younger man.”

“But Kryten, we’ve encountered our future selves before, and Lister was much older than he is now! Back before you came on board, we saw a future echo where Lister was 171. He has to live that long, right?”

“He might, if he gets past this and is very, very lucky. But…” he trailed off, seeing Rimmer’s expression. Normally, Rimmer always preferred to be lied to, having the painful truth spared from him. Not now, though. He fixed Kryten with a deathly glare. “It isn’t likely. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Give me that.” Rimmer snatched the tray from Kryten. “I’ll bring it to him. You just piss off and go somewhere else for a few hours, alright?” Kryten looked at him with sad eyes, but nodded and turned, walking away.

When Rimmer arrived at the medibay, he could hear Cat chattering inside. Impatiently, he knocked on the door. “Mr. Lister sir, I have your dinner,” he said in a perfect impression of Kryten.

“Alright. I’ll seeya, Cat. Thanks for the vids.” A few moments later, Cat stepped out into the hallway. He sized up Rimmer, glanced around like he was searching for Kryten, then shrugged and trotter off down the hall. “Kryten, man, is that you?” Lister called. “Did you make curry?”

“No, it’s me,” Rimmer answered, appearing in the doorway. “And _no_. Curry is the last thing you need right now.” Lister groaned and let his head fall back on the pillow. Rimmer just rolled his eyes. “Your health is precarious, Listy, I’m not going to let you take any unnecessary risks. Until you’re back to your usual insufferable self, no more curries.” He set the tray down on Lister’s lap. “Now sit up. Eat.” Lister eyed the plate of questionable greens and meat with suspicion, but nonetheless dug in. Rimmer settled himself in a chair nearby. 

“Cat brought me his discs of the Flintstones,” Lister said after a few minutes. “I was gonna wait to watch them with him tomorrow, but if you want, we could pop one in now…” He trailed off, catching Rimmer’s expression. “I’m kidding man, I know you hate cartoons. And comedies. And anything that isn’t a documentary. Besides,” he added with a wink. “I wouldn’t want you to get jealous of Wilma.” And as Rimmer spluttered, trying and failing to figure out what to say to that, Lister just laughed around a large bite of food. “Y’know, this isn’t half bad. Tell Kryten to add a little chili sauce to it next time, and it’ll be a hit.”

When he finished eating, Rimmer cleared the tray, and found himself dwelling on how odd it felt to be attending to Lister’s every need. That had alway been Kryten’s area, and even long after Rimmer had been forced to come to terms with the fact that he cared about Lister, it was never in his nature to be the mother hen. But now, just the two of him alone, his hyper-vigilant concern was seeping through. Rimmer dimmed the lights and crawled into the bed with Lister again, this time pulling him into his arms and holding the smaller man against his chest. Exhausted from the day, and full from his meal, it didn’t take long for Lister to drift off to sleep.

Rimmer watched him for a while, taking note of how Lister’s chest rose and fell, the way he snored, and slept with his mouth open. He barely even flinched when a little drool fell from his mouth onto Rimmer’s shirt. With only the fainted exasperated sigh, Rimmer simply wiped the sweat from Lister’s brow and ran his fingers through his hair, neatly moving his dreads out from under him. In so many ways, he was the same Lister he’d met so long ago in a taxicab on Mimas. Disgusting, grimy hands, bad breath, terrible hygiene — Rimmer had spent so long hating him for all of it. But over the years, the importance of Lister’s flaws seemed to diminish in his eyes, for the most part without him even realizing it. Now, it was impossible to imagine his life without Lister. What the hell he’d ever done in his life to deserve even this small bit of happiness would forever remain a mystery to him, but he’d learned to not question it now. Realizing that he loved Lister had been a surprise to them all. It was hard to say it even now, or to express any sort of real affection, but Lister had never minded. The words _I love you_ seemed so cheap in the grand scheme of things, just as calling him his ‘boyfriend’ did. It was a diminishment of their relationship to try and put it into words. And though loath to admit it, Rimmer _had_ changed over the years. He learned, he grew, he found comfort and security in loving and being loved, not just by Lister but all of them. His home. His family.

Mostly though, he was just grateful to have him in his arms.

The next day, Lister was looking and feeling significantly better, so while Cat kept him entertained with the Flintstones, Rimmer resumed ship duties as much as possible. He tried to resume a normal routine because in the end, there was still work to be done, and the world didn’t stop just because Lister wasn’t around to be annoying. The distraction was welcome, as he took his duties as senior officer more serious than ever. But under his sharp and intent focus was an undercurrent of stress that he couldn’t shake. He was bossy to the scutters, demeaning to the dispensing machines, flippant to Holly, and snarky to Kryten whenever he passed him in the corridor. Still, no matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to stop worrying about Lister. 

But the next day, he was a little better. And the next. And the day after that, until they were all fairly sure that he was on the way to recovery. But then he seemed to plateau. He was having difficulty breathing. He was exhausted all the time. After a few days, he had nearly stopped eating. Still, his spirits were high, though Rimmer refused to leave his side. Cat took over necessary ship functions, and Kryten tried to give the pair as much privacy as he could when he wasn’t needed in the medibay. But at one point, when Lister was napping, Kryten pulled Rimmer aside.

“What is it, Kryten, I don’t want him to wake up and me not be there—”

“Please, Mr. Rimmer, sir, this is important.”

And something about the look on Kryten’s face told Rimmer it was.

He steeled himself, and asked the question before Kryten could even offer the answer. The picture of maturity. Of sensibility and composure. “It’s not looking good, is it?”

Kryten was quiet for a moment, and Rimmer suspected that he was trying to decide whether it was worth engaging lie mode or not. 

“No,” he said finally.

Rimmer closed his eyes, processing. “How long?”

“Days, sir.” Kryten’s voice wavered, clearly on the brink of breaking down. “Maybe a week.”

He could feel his heart catch in his throat as he struggled to find the right words, the right way to respond to something with such weight. In the end, all he came up with was, “Stop snivelling Kryten, it’s not a good look on you.” 

And with that, he walked back into the medibay. Perhaps for the best, Kryten didn’t follow.

 _It isn’t fair_ , Rimmer thought, when the door closed behind him. _Lister dying isn’t fair._ Everyone on this ship needed him. Loved him. Kryten adored him; without Lister he never would’ve broken his programming, never would’ve become the person he was now. Kryten needed Lister. And Cat, though he’d never admit it, owed his entire life to Lister. But despite his large ego, the two had been inseparable from day one. The best of friends for forty years. Cat needed Lister. And as for him… 

Lister was still asleep, and Rimmer didn’t want to wake him — though there was that fear, the niggling feeling in the back of his mind, that if he didn’t, he might never wake up again. His eyes flickered to the monitor on the opposite wall. Stable, for now. Rimmer sighed, and sank into a chair.

“Holly,” he said, eyes never leaving Lister’s sleeping form. “I need you to do something for me.”

The next few days bled together. Rimmer had no sense of what time it was, or how long it had last been since he slept. Lister was in and out of sleep, but Rimmer refused to let himself doze off for fear of missing his moments of consciousness. He’d since moved into the bed, and he could feel his legs going numb (a glitch of his lightbee, from not moving) but it hardly fazed him. He kept his arms around Lister at all times, wishing he could provide heat when he shivered, and cold when he sweat. But all he had to offer was a protective embrace and a wish that he were stronger.

The times when Lister was awake he could almost pretend everything was alright. He never seemed to lose his sense of humor, something that Rimmer would never be able to understand. He seemed grateful, when he blinked his eyes open sleepily, to see Rimmer’s tired face staring down at him. Lister smiled back, and leaned up to press a kiss to Rimmer’s lips. Gentle, chaste, so different from how they usually acted. There was a time it would’ve bothered Rimmer. Not anymore. 

_I am so fortunate._

“Can you believe it, Lister?” Rimmer asked, running a hand up and down the other’s back. “If you told me three million years ago that it would be you and me, I would’ve called you space crazy.”

Lister scoffed, a strained, choking laugh against Rimmer’s chest. “ _I_ would’ve called me space crazy.”

“We probably are. Both of us.” Rimmer sighed, and drew him a little closer. “Old and senile and in love. You know, that’s all I ever wanted, right?”

“To be in love with me?”

Rimmer shoved him, lightly. “To be loved. By anyone. And to _feel_ real love.”

Lister grinned. “I know, smeghead. You told me, years ago.”

“You were it, for me.”

The smile faded. “Rimmer, I know what you’re doing.”

Rimmer sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “Right.”

“I’m not dead yet, Arn.” Lister shifted out of his lap, turning to look at him. Rimmer shook his head, like he wanted to protest. “I’m a fighter.”

“Mhm.” 

Another laugh, and Rimmer would’ve sworn it was the most beautiful sound in the world. “Goodnight,” Lister said, fondly but dismissively. Ha. As if he thought Rimmer was going anywhere.

“I’m staying right here,” he insisted. “Whether you want me to or not.” 

Lister rolled his eyes. “Rimmer, come on, man. You haven’t left this bed in days. Go back to the bunkroom, and stop worrying.”

“Worrying?” Rimmer’s voice was harsh, almost scathing. But it wasn’t directed at Lister, not really. “Who’s worrying? I’m not worried. What good would that do?” He reached over, grasping Lister’s hand in his, and moved it up to his cheek. “I just need us to be here, together.”

“ _Rimmer_ .” Lister’s voice was pleading. Rimmer turned away. He didn’t understand. _Couldn’t_ understand. Why did Lister not want him here? Had he done something wrong? Why would he want to be alone here, dying, without anyone by his side? “Please. Go sleep in your own bed, read a book, and just… imagine that I’m there with you. Not here. Not like this.” 

Rimmer didn’t answer. He stared outward at the wall. Is that what this was? Was Lister… ashamed? Did he not trust Rimmer to see him like this, weak and dying? Lister needed him, like the sun needs the moon. Lister had _taught_ him that. And Rimmer needed him too. Why would he pretend otherwise?

“Rimmer?” Lister’s voice broke through his thoughts. He leaned over Rimmer’s shoulder, an arm wrapping around him, pulling him slowly from the fog in his mind. “Did you hear what I said?” 

Rimmer sagged in Lister’s arms, allowing himself to be held, and the pair laid back down. It felt selfish, so obviously being the one who needed the comfort more, when Lister was the one dying. But then again, Arnold Judas Rimmer has always been a selfish man. “Shut up and go to sleep,” he mumbled, holding onto one of Lister’s arns. “It’s too bad you’re the last human. No one for me to go chase after now.” That didn’t get a response, and Rimmer tensed slightly. “Are you asleep…?” A slight cough from behind him and the arms around his waist tightening was enough of an answer. He relaxed again, though the concern didn’t fade. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, more for himself than Lister. “I should be stronger for you.”

Rimmer felt Lister shift, felt a light kiss being pressed to his shoulder. “You don’t have to apologize. And you don’t have to be scared.” He exhaled, and murmured against Rimmer’s back, “Just stay here.”

 _I love you_. 

Lister’s breathing eventually slowed, and Rimmer listened carefully, but it never stopped. His eyes were begging him to let them close, to allow sleep to overpower him, but he refused. After a few minutes, hushed voices whispering outside the medibay door pulled his attention back. 

“He’s probably tired,” Kryten’s voice said, presumably to Cat. Lister stirred, then sat up, and so did Rimmer.

“Shhh!” That was _definitely_ Cat. “He’s probably waiting for us. It’s been days!”

“Shhh,” Kryten chided. “Maybe he _would_ like visitors…” 

The doors slid open, and at the sight of them standing there side by side, Lister started laughing, which turned into a hacking cough.

“Is this a bad time?” Kryten asked immediately. “We can come back later!” Rimmer was about to say _yes, this is_ clearly _a bad time, can’t you use your eyes for once?_ but Lister shook his head and beckoned them inside. Cat took the chair, and Kryten stood beside him, setting down a tray on the bedside table.

“You guys,” Lister said, fondness clear in his voice. He reached out to them, one hand for each, which they both took and stepped closer. “Look at the four of us. Boys from the Dwarf.” 

(As if on cue, they _all_ shook their hands as if dislodging water droplets.)

“Just like always, we have absolutely _no_ idea what’s going to happen,” Cat said, and though it was a dig, it was laced with a gentleness Rimmer had never heard from him before. 

“I… have a suspicion,” Lister said gently, squeezing Cat’s hand and then releasing it. 

“Me too,” Rimmer said as Cat deflated somewhat.

Kryten looked at him pointedly. “Why don’t we all pretend we don’t?”

“Lie mode?” Rimmer asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. 

Lister groaned. “P _lease_ , change the subject.”

“Hm… We saw a comet!” Cat said brightly.

“Really?” Rimmer’s eyes widened. “I haven’t seen one of those in years!”

Kryten sighed. “I’ve always loved comets.”

“And _I_ love friends who hover,” Lister said. They all laughed slightly, the awkwardness fading away just like that. “Hey, what’s that smell?” He looked over to the table. “Is it? No. It’s not — did you bring me vindaloo, Kryten?”

Rimmer shot a look at the mechanoid. “Yes, sir,” Kryten said, only looking a little guilty. “I thought you might want some.”

Lister’s entire expression lit up. “Kryten, man, you’re the best!” He reached out for the tray, which Kryten picked up and set in his lap. “Oh man…” He grabbed the fork, shoveling a huge bite in his mouth. “Oh _smeg_ , this is good. I’ve missed you, curry. Please never leave me again.” Rimmer and Cat snorted in unison, which Lister ignored. He ate messily and hurriedly, little bits falling from his mouth as he kept talking. 

_Last meal_ , Rimmer thought as he watched Lister’s joyous consumption of his favorite food. It was thoughtful of Kryten. Nice even. But it made it all the more real what was happening, the fact that he was so far beyond recovery that it didn’t matter anymore what he ate. 

“I’m glad you guys are here with me,” Lister said after a few minutes. They all looked at him. “All of us, old friends. What a group. Imagine if we’d made other choices — we might not be here.”

 _And you might not be dying_ , Rimmer thought scathingly.

“Yeah!” Cat said. “You could’ve actually gotten that farm on Fushal!”

“Fiji,” Rimmer and Lister corrected automatically.

“We never did make it back to Earth,” Lister added in realization, a little more somber now. “I kinda can’t believe it. That’s been me goal this whole time.”

“We’ll do it,” Kryten said, and Rimmer was startled to see just how upset he really was. Somehow, he’d failed to notice until now how emotional even a mechanoid could get. “For you, sir, we _will_ . And we’ll go to Fiji, and there will be a farm, and it will be everything you wanted. I _promise_.” Rimmer scrutinized him, trying to discern if he had lie mode engaged for that or not. And honestly? He couldn’t tell.

“I appreciate that Krytes,” Lister said, resting his head back against Rimmer again. “But I have everything I need right here.” He looked at the pair standing by the bed. “I love you guys.” 

“And we love you, sir,” Kryten said. Cat nodded in agreement, and Lister turned his head to look at Rimmer expectantly. 

Rimmer’s response was small, sad. “I love you,” he murmured, only loud enough for Lister’s ears. Lister smiled, and drifted off to sleep.

“Holly, have you done it?”

“All set, Arnold.”

Lister passed away peacefully in his sleep the next day. No fanfare, no tears, no long goodbyes or heartfelt speeches. One minute he was snoring softly in Rimmer’s arms, and the next… he wasn’t. 

(Rimmer had been sleeping too. In fact, no one would ever know, but Lister kept himself awake until he was sure the other was asleep. That way, he could go quietly and without fuss; without worrying Rimmer or causing him any more distress.)

When he woke up, it was to Kryten placing a gentle hand on his arm. He knew immediately. Without saying a word, Rimmer stood up, and walked out of the medibay. 

The funeral was nice, all things considered. Kryten really outdid himself. In a lot of ways though, it reminded Rimmer of his own ‘funeral’ when he left to be Ace. That seemed like a lifetime ago, now. As they ejected his ashes into space, Cat talked about all the idiotic (“but fun!”) things he and Lister did over the years, and Kryten gave an emotional eulogy that left a bad taste in Rimmer’s mouth because he felt like it should’ve been coming from him. There was so much he could’ve said. _Should’ve_ said. Mountains of feelings and words he never dared utter aloud when Lister was alive. 

But true to form, Rimmer’s words were harsh, laced with anger and bitterness. 

“David Lister encompassed everything that was wrong with my life,” he began. “He was a lowly third technician on _Red Dwarf._ He was rude, uncouth, messy, loud. He never showed interest in a career or work, rarely exercised, and he ate chicken vindaloo and beer milkshakes every single day — you could argue that this is what killed him, even. And some may even say it was deserved. That he had it coming, and he could’ve done a number of very simple things to prevent it, but chose to ignore common sense and the warnings of his crewmates. He was a stubborn git, who went through life without a care for how his actions affected the people around him.

“As you may recall, three million years ago, Lister smuggled a cat on board and hid her in our bunkroom, endangering the entire crew and risking getting not only himself but me in trouble as well. When Captain Hollister found out, he gave Lister a choice. Turn over the cat, or go into stasis for the remainder of the trip. If Lister had carefully weighed his options, he would’ve realized that potentially saving the lives of the entire crew at the expense of one cat’s life was the only logical choice. Instead, he refused. The cat remained loose on the ship, where it could’ve spread any number of diseases. But of course, it never got to that point. Because shortly after going into stasis and leaving me without an assistant on Z Shift, a drive plate was repaired incorrectly, causing a radiation leak and wiping out everyone on _Red Dwarf_ except for Lister himself. So in a way, by saving one cat, Lister killed over a thousand people.”

Kryten and Cat exchanged a look. “Um, sir,” Kryten began, but either he didn’t hear or chose to ignore the mechanoid’s protests, because Rimmer plowed right on.

“It took three million years for the radiation levels to go down. Three million years during which a genius supercomputer went senile, an entire new species evolved, and I and everyone else was dead, all while he was blissfully unaware of the consequences of his actions and unaffected by the passage of time. And when he was released, _I_ was revived as a hologram, a form which you now see before you. For many years after, I asked myself ‘why me?’ — both about my death, and my revival. We despised each other from the day we met on Mimas. So why not Petersen? Chen? Or Kristine Kochanski, for that matter? Well. I hoped that I would be able to keep him in line. Focused. Holly believed I would keep him _sane_. Or, perhaps it was nothing like that. He’s only a computer, after all, and an idiotic one at that. Everything he does is formulaic. Perhaps the simplest explanation is the truest one: I simply exchanged more words with Lister than anyone else did. And in the forty years since, that number has only grown. I talked to Lister more than I ever did anyone else. I shared things with him I never would’ve told another living person. And I learned far more about him than I ever wanted to. I suppose at some point, I got used to talking to him. I would like to think he got used to it too.

“We’ve been through hell, the four of us. And it’s all thanks to Lister! Every single terrible thing that’s happened to us is his fault. But I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for him. I don’t… I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. But that was all so long ago. I don’t recognize the person I was before. Before David Lister entered — and destroyed — my life. I died in that radiation leak. And then my life _started._ I’m not good at speeches like you, Kryten. I don’t have fun-filled stories and tales of adventure to share. I have forty years of arguments and fights and harassment and contempt, and I know it seems like all I can do is remember the bad parts of Lister. All of his faults, which I detested so much. But that is what our relationship was built on. Our disagreements, everything that drove us apart, also kept us together. Whether that was out of spite, or stubbornness, or sheer determination to not be outdone by the other, I’ll never know. We were each other’s best friend, and worst enemy. We hated each other, and we loved each other, and we very rarely liked each other.”

“I don’t know what happens now. Before you stands a man whose purpose for existence is gone. Everything I lived — and died — for. Do I regret it? No. There was a time I would have. There were times I did try. Tried to undo everything that had happened to me. Tried to erase the effects of David Lister from my life. But it never quite worked like I hoped. Every time, there was a gaping hole, even if I didn’t know why. I always thought I would change everything, change my entire life if I got the chance. Make sure I got the breaks this time, the way Ace did. But I _did_ get the breaks. And I would do it again, all of it.”

_I’ll tell you the point of you._

“I didn’t understand at the time that I mattered.”

_A moon cannot make light, right? And yet there’s such a thing as moonlight._

“I thought all we did was clash. Fight.”

_The sun can’t make moonlight without the moon._

“I didn’t understand that he needed me.”

 _And the moon can’t make moonlight without the sun_.

“I didn’t understand that _I_ needed _him_.”

_So who’s making the moonlight?_

“We both needed each other.”

 _Which means, even though a moon cannot make light, moonlight exists_.

“No matter how awful I was, he stayed.”

 _Like you_.

“And he gave me a reason to keep going.”

_Smeghead._

He stepped back, saluted — the Full Rimmer, extra long. And then with his expression stoic, he lifted his chin and marched out of the room. Cat and Kryten followed him with their eyes until he disappeared down the corridor.

All across the ship, the lights were dim. Rimmer’s bed was made neatly, Lister’s a mess. Cat’s closets were stuffed full of suits. Kryten’s room was spotless and free of dust. Just as it always had been. Just as it always would be.

The mechanoid hummed to himself as he vacuumed the drive room. The Cat preened himself in the mirror. And the hologram woke up in his bunk.

He slowly got up, stretched. Ran a hand through his hair as memories of the last few days came flooding back. 

He walked down the corridor, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. And it wasn’t. There was an absence, a missing piece. A hole where something — someone — used to be. 

“Holly?” The computer’s face appeared on a screen a little ways down. “What’s going on?”

“You’re dead, Dave.”

And that was how David Lister found out that he was now a hologram.

All things considered, he liked to think he took it in stride.

An hour or so later, he sat across from Cat and Kryten, watching him with mild concern as he worked through his new situation. “I don’t understand,” he said for the tenth time that morning, putting his head in his hands. “ _Why_ would Rimmer do that?”

“I dunno,” Cat said. “He didn’t tell us anything.”

Kryten seemed less interested in talking about Rimmer. He leaned down, wrapping strong silicon arms around Lister, hugging him tightly. “I’m just so happy to see you!” he said, voice cracking slightly. “I thought we lost you for good!”

“So did I,” Lister said sardonically. His usual cheerfulness, which had been ever-present even on his deathbed, was gone. “I didn’t even know I had a recent hologram backup. Or any hologram backup.”

Holly appeared again, adding helpfully, “I might be able to explain.”

The three of them swiveled around to stare at the computer. “Seriously?” Lister asked. “ _Now_ you want to help?”

“I always want to help,” Holly said. “Sometimes you lot just don’t agree with my definition.”

Lister rolled his eyes. “Just spit it out, Hol.”

“Basically, Arnold asked me to make a backup, and then to turn him off and activate you instead.”

“But _why?_ I mean, I would’ve thought he’d be _glad_ to have me gone, honestly.” Cat and Kryten stared at him. “...What?”

“You can’t be serious, bud,” Cat said. “You weren’t there, but the things he said at your funeral… I mean, wow. I didn’t think goalpost-head had it in him.”

“He’s right, sir. You _know_ how upset Mr. Rimmer was.”

Lister looked at them both like they were crazy — which is exactly how they were looking at him. “I don’t, actually. He barely came to check on me.”

“That’s not…” Kryten shook his head in disbelief. “How would you describe your relationship with Mr. Rimmer?”

Lister thought about it. “I dunno. I mean, we got on better than we used to. I guess we were friends. I cared about him, even if he was a smeghead. He mellowed out over the years, but I don’t think he ever came around to liking _me_ very much.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his face with both hands. “So I don’t get why he would trade in his own existence for mine.”

Kryten’s expression was unreadable. Even the Cat looked unusually somber. But neither of them had a response to that. Finally, it was Holly who broke the silence. “Why don’t you go to the hologram simulation suite, Dave? There’s something I think you should see.”

Lister stood up and left as Holly disappeared from the screen. The others decided not to follow. 

“D’you actually think he—” Cat began.

“I don’t know,” Kryten said, watching Lister’s retreating back with mild concern. “I really don’t know.”

Lister settled himself in a chair and Holly popped up in front of him. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on for real, Hol, or are you just gonna run me in circles?”

“It’ll be better if I show you.”

On the screen, footage that could only be from Rimmer’s memory appeared. Lister could see himself, asleep in the medibay bed across the room. 

> _“Holly,” Rimmer’s voice said. “I need you to do something for me.”_
> 
> _“What is it, Arnold?”_
> 
> _“Make an updated memory and personality hologram backup for Lister.”_
> 
> _“Sure thing. But you know I can’t run more than one hologram at a time.”_
> 
> _“Yes, I know that, you imbecile. When he’s gone, I want you to switch me off.”_
> 
> _“What, really?”_
> 
> _“No, I’m pulling your leg._ Yes, _really! We never should’ve reinstalled your program.”_
> 
> _“Alright, no need to be rude. I’ll do it, I never said I wouldn’t.”_
> 
> _“Good. And then you’re going to boot Lister’s hologram up.”_
> 
> _“So you’re telling me you want to be shut off and have Lister in your place.”_
> 
> _“Yes.”_

Lister sat back and shook his head as the memory faded from the screen. “I still don’t get why he would do that for me.”

Somewhere deep in Lister’s memory, he remembered Kochanski’s words. _Maybe he sacrificed his happiness to keep you sane._

“Don’t worry, Dave,” Holly said. “There’s more.” Lister watched as the screen changed again.

> _“It’s time, Holly. Just — one thing.”_
> 
> _“What is it?”_
> 
> _“I want you to delete the memories of the two of us from his backup. Not all of them. Just — the ones of us together. The ones of him… loving me.”_
> 
> _“What good would that do?”_
> 
> _“I… he deserves to live. To be around people who care about him. Who need him. That’s why I want you to revive him. But I won’t be here. And I know what it’s like to be completely empty and I don’t want him to feel what I feel right now. I…”_
> 
> _“I think I understand.”_

The feed cut out, and Lister could only stare as Holly’s face reappeared in front of him. “We were together,” he said quietly. “We were in _love?_ Holly!” He threw his hands up in the air. “And you didn’t think I’d want to remember that?”

Holly looked at him apologetically. “He thought he was sparing you.”

Lister shook his head. “Then he’s an idiot. If what you’re saying is true, then he was so upset by me death that he wanted to revive me as a hologram at the expense of his own life… And he thinks that I wouldn’t want to _remember_ that? I mean — loving Rimmer! If only for the laughs, I want those memories.” He was trying to play it cool. But what bothered him the most was even without the knowledge, the idea of being in love with Rimmer wasn’t so far fetched. It was almost as if somewhere in the back of his mind, he had _always_ been a little bit in love with him. Feelings buried so deep Holly’s programming hadn’t been able to pick up on them.

“I kept the backup,” Holly said nonchalantly. “I just didn’t fully download it when I rebooted you.”

“You did?” Lister blinked, relief flooding through him. “Hol, that’s brilliant! You’re a genius.”

Holly rolled his eyes. “Well I already know that, Dave. You’re sure you want this?”

“Yes!” Lister said immediately. “Those memories belong to me, Hol. It’s me _life._ And you saw, Kryten and Cat thought I was a nutter for not knowing.” He sighed, still feeling a bit bewildered. “He gave up everything for me. The least I can do is remember why.”

“Alright, then.” Did Holly sound… smug? “Just sit back and relax. This might take a while.”

Lister nodded, settling back against the chair. He could almost _hear_ Rimmer in the back of his mind. _You’re making a big mistake, milado._ He smiled, and ignored that annoying, sniping voice. _I make me own decisions, Rimmer. And it’s you I want._ He closed his eyes, and let the memories come flooding back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments fuel me <3 And if you know what inspired a lot of this fic I am so sorry.  
> Catch me on tumblr at [hardlightholography](http://hardlightholography.tumblr.com).


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